There had to have been at least one moment in 2012 when someone who loved you suggested that you listen to Jessie Ware. The UK soul-pop starlet spent the greater half of the past year riding high off her buzz single “Wildest Moments” off her debut album Devotion. The U.S. won’t see Devotion until April, but Jessie’s done kick ass things already like worked with SBTRKT, performed with the Roots on Fallon, and was nominated for two 2013 BRIT Awards. A few weeks ago she dropped a short EP titledYou’re Never Gonna Move serving as a precursor to her follow-up album, which will arrive as soon as she can stop people from wanting to hear her sing live. The touring life is tough, but what’s tougher for Ware is ducking fast food in the fat capital known as America. As she cruises the Cali coast, Jessie Ware talks to us about her Barbra Streisand fascination, melatonin, old dudes at her hotel, and her top five ten dead or alive.
VICE: Are you in L.A. at the moment?
Jessie Ware: No, we’re kind of somewhere between L.A. and San Francisco. I’m trying to pull myself away from McDonald’s. Oh no, I’ve just seen In-N-Out Burger…fuck! I’m getting back in the van. But yeah, just trying not to eat In-N-Out burgers every day.
 
Did you get it Animal Style?
Oh yeah, I’ve had it Animal Style many a time. I just need to just avoid it at all costs. It’s too good.
 
You’ve got to eat it with a fork…
Oh you know what? I once didn’t eat it with a fork though. And I ate it in the back of a van…I had to eat with my fingers. Don’t ever eat Animal Style with your fingers! The smell…
 
Oh my God, yes! We don’t have In-N-Out in New York though.
You know what, I think that’s probably the best thing because if I lived in L.A., I’d just… [pauses] However… [pauses] Oh God, I’m being that boring person that talks about food. And Whole Foods.
 
Oh I love Whole Foods too! So please, continue.
I’d give my soul to Whole Foods.
 
No, I bleed for Whole Foods, Jessie. I feel you.
Oh man, I just dropped a fucking cash bomb in there. I just stocked up on melatonin for my flight to Australia tomorrow. Is it good, melatonin?

Continue

There had to have been at least one moment in 2012 when someone who loved you suggested that you listen to Jessie Ware. The UK soul-pop starlet spent the greater half of the past year riding high off her buzz single “Wildest Moments” off her debut album Devotion. The U.S. won’t see Devotion until April, but Jessie’s done kick ass things already like worked with SBTRKT, performed with the Roots on Fallon, and was nominated for two 2013 BRIT Awards. A few weeks ago she dropped a short EP titledYou’re Never Gonna Move serving as a precursor to her follow-up album, which will arrive as soon as she can stop people from wanting to hear her sing live. The touring life is tough, but what’s tougher for Ware is ducking fast food in the fat capital known as America. As she cruises the Cali coast, Jessie Ware talks to us about her Barbra Streisand fascination, melatonin, old dudes at her hotel, and her top five ten dead or alive.

VICE: Are you in L.A. at the moment?
Jessie Ware: No, we’re kind of somewhere between L.A. and San Francisco. I’m trying to pull myself away from McDonald’s. Oh no, I’ve just seen In-N-Out Burger…fuck! I’m getting back in the van. But yeah, just trying not to eat In-N-Out burgers every day.
 
Did you get it Animal Style?
Oh yeah, I’ve had it Animal Style many a time. I just need to just avoid it at all costs. It’s too good.
 
You’ve got to eat it with a fork…
Oh you know what? I once didn’t eat it with a fork though. And I ate it in the back of a van…I had to eat with my fingers. Don’t ever eat Animal Style with your fingers! The smell…
 
Oh my God, yes! We don’t have In-N-Out in New York though.
You know what, I think that’s probably the best thing because if I lived in L.A., I’d just… [pauses] However… [pauses] Oh God, I’m being that boring person that talks about food. And Whole Foods.
 
Oh I love Whole Foods too! So please, continue.
I’d give my soul to Whole Foods.
 
No, I bleed for Whole Foods, Jessie. I feel you.
Oh man, I just dropped a fucking cash bomb in there. I just stocked up on melatonin for my flight to Australia tomorrow. Is it good, melatonin?
Continue

Reasons Why It’s Actually Really Easy to Get Laid on Tour

Yesterday, the esteemed Noisey overlord Ben Shapiro posted a piece about why, despite the common cum-drenched perception of the rock  roll lifestyle, it’s actually pretty hard to get laid while out on tour. His argument boiled down to, essentially, “Dudes in touring bands smell weird and act juvenile, plus I had a girlfriend most of the time I was on tour.”
While it’s true that I’ve never been in a band and therefore have never had a chance to take the ol’ touring van to Fuck City, Vermont—even I know that the old adage is not just “drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.” There is also a “sex” involved. So, without further adieu, here are all the reasons it’s super easy to dunk your metaphorical corndog in the human batter of your choice while on the road with your band.

THERE’S A SHIT-TON OF BOOZE
Often, touring bands don’t make too much money. It’s a shit reality that we have to deal with. Still, when a band shows up to a venue, what they don’t make in legal currency, they often make in the second-best paper known to humankind: drink tickets. Also, depending on what type of band you are, the audience is gonna get wasted at your show. If there’s one thing science has taught us, it’s that drunk people in a room tend to start making out.
Read the rest over at Noisey.

Reasons Why It’s Actually Really Easy to Get Laid on Tour

Yesterday, the esteemed Noisey overlord Ben Shapiro posted a piece about why, despite the common cum-drenched perception of the rock  roll lifestyle, it’s actually pretty hard to get laid while out on tour. His argument boiled down to, essentially, “Dudes in touring bands smell weird and act juvenile, plus I had a girlfriend most of the time I was on tour.”

While it’s true that I’ve never been in a band and therefore have never had a chance to take the ol’ touring van to Fuck City, Vermont—even I know that the old adage is not just “drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.” There is also a “sex” involved. So, without further adieu, here are all the reasons it’s super easy to dunk your metaphorical corndog in the human batter of your choice while on the road with your band.

THERE’S A SHIT-TON OF BOOZE

Often, touring bands don’t make too much money. It’s a shit reality that we have to deal with. Still, when a band shows up to a venue, what they don’t make in legal currency, they often make in the second-best paper known to humankind: drink tickets. Also, depending on what type of band you are, the audience is gonna get wasted at your show. If there’s one thing science has taught us, it’s that drunk people in a room tend to start making out.

Read the rest over at Noisey.


It’s Impossible to Get Laid on Tour
If you’ve ever gone on tour, some half-drunk uncle has probably pulled you aside at a holiday dinner and demanded the dirt on the finer points of travelin’ life. You can just imagine him whisper-spitting into your ear:
"So what’s it really like on the road? You know… the groupies? I bet you’re playing rumpy pumpy every night, am I right?” 
The short answer is… No. You aren’t. Unless you’re a rapper, or you’re a heavy-drinking gay, or you’re in a band like Zeppelin who has roadies do the dirty work so the band can shove actual sharks into groupie gash on a nightly basis, your chances of making the beast with two backs diminishes to nearly nil when you’re out on the road. I know that sounds stereotypical, but somehow this is true.
I’ve toured for a good portion of my life, and it may be surprising for all your horndogs to hear that - wait for it -I’ve actually never seen a single band member meet someone at a show and do the deed that night. Now I know what you’re thinking: You’re thinking I’m probably just ugly, and have only toured with ugly dinknuts who wouldn’t know a serious prospect if it fell onto their genitals. But that’s not the case! There are a set of conditions at play on tour that actually make it nearly impossible to nail the dunk pot after a show. Here are a few reasons why.

SWAMP ASS
Here’s a little vignette for you. You wake up on a floor at 6AM and literally roll into a gnarly Econoline 15-passenger, where you proceeded to spend the next thirteen hours with no shower, and no stops besides roadside cheese sandwiches and Dr. Pepper. You’re chain-smoking cheap cigarettes, and your afternoon visit to a truck stop bathroom to blow the butt-trumpet didn’t go anywhere near how you’d planned. Then you get to a venue, lift up a few 110-pound guitar and bass amps, eat some bad Mexican food, and play a forty-minute show under scalding lights.
At the end of the day, all of these elements combine to make your rear such a wasteland that when a prospect comes within ten feet of it their face looks like baby’s first lemon. 

YOU CAN’T HAVE SEX IN THE VAN
You might think you can, but you can’t. Even if you convince some yokel to get down to it on the filthy floor of your van, turning your vehicle into a “Second Base Mobile” is hands down the biggest dick move a musician can do to his or her fellow travelers.
And if you think you can snag a quick one while they’re away, you thought wrong. Your van is littered with empty pretzel wrappers and vitaminwater bottles, perfect hiding places for that lost condom or spurt of discharge to hide. Then the next morning when your singer finds a dental dam wedged between the seats you’ll be immediately exiled from any and all group activities and cheated out of your per diems.

YOU HAVE TO LOAD OUT
Load out is a real problem. There’s a golden moment you’ve got to make an impression, and it’s directly after you get offstage. Your prospective one night stand has just seen you and your fumble-core band spill your creative guts onstage, and you’ve got that irresistible sex glow around you that makes it impossible for him or her not to want to climb aboard.
But just when you get into the groove, your new bass player sticks his stinky face between you and yours and reminds you that it’s that time of the night: Load out.
Every single night, load out will annihilate any chance you’ve got to put the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. If you say no to your band and skip load out, it’s only a matter of time before you’re that guy, and believe me, there’s one in every band. And after load out, generally its one more drink before you drive to wherever it is you’re staying for the night. Are you going to miss your only ride? You’re in the middle of nowhere and you have to leave early the next morning. Chances are your best bet is for an impassioned and pining look from your potential bone bud, an exchange of numbers, or a quick ‘n’ dirty HJ in the parking lot.
Continue

It’s Impossible to Get Laid on Tour

If you’ve ever gone on tour, some half-drunk uncle has probably pulled you aside at a holiday dinner and demanded the dirt on the finer points of travelin’ life. You can just imagine him whisper-spitting into your ear:

"So what’s it really like on the road? You know… the groupies? I bet you’re playing rumpy pumpy every night, am I right?” 

The short answer is… No. You aren’t. Unless you’re a rapper, or you’re a heavy-drinking gay, or you’re in a band like Zeppelin who has roadies do the dirty work so the band can shove actual sharks into groupie gash on a nightly basis, your chances of making the beast with two backs diminishes to nearly nil when you’re out on the road. I know that sounds stereotypical, but somehow this is true.

I’ve toured for a good portion of my life, and it may be surprising for all your horndogs to hear that - wait for it -I’ve actually never seen a single band member meet someone at a show and do the deed that night. Now I know what you’re thinking: You’re thinking I’m probably just ugly, and have only toured with ugly dinknuts who wouldn’t know a serious prospect if it fell onto their genitals. But that’s not the case! There are a set of conditions at play on tour that actually make it nearly impossible to nail the dunk pot after a show. Here are a few reasons why.

SWAMP ASS

Here’s a little vignette for you. You wake up on a floor at 6AM and literally roll into a gnarly Econoline 15-passenger, where you proceeded to spend the next thirteen hours with no shower, and no stops besides roadside cheese sandwiches and Dr. Pepper. You’re chain-smoking cheap cigarettes, and your afternoon visit to a truck stop bathroom to blow the butt-trumpet didn’t go anywhere near how you’d planned. Then you get to a venue, lift up a few 110-pound guitar and bass amps, eat some bad Mexican food, and play a forty-minute show under scalding lights.

At the end of the day, all of these elements combine to make your rear such a wasteland that when a prospect comes within ten feet of it their face looks like baby’s first lemon. 

YOU CAN’T HAVE SEX IN THE VAN

You might think you can, but you can’t. Even if you convince some yokel to get down to it on the filthy floor of your van, turning your vehicle into a “Second Base Mobile” is hands down the biggest dick move a musician can do to his or her fellow travelers.

And if you think you can snag a quick one while they’re away, you thought wrong. Your van is littered with empty pretzel wrappers and vitaminwater bottles, perfect hiding places for that lost condom or spurt of discharge to hide. Then the next morning when your singer finds a dental dam wedged between the seats you’ll be immediately exiled from any and all group activities and cheated out of your per diems.

YOU HAVE TO LOAD OUT

Load out is a real problem. There’s a golden moment you’ve got to make an impression, and it’s directly after you get offstage. Your prospective one night stand has just seen you and your fumble-core band spill your creative guts onstage, and you’ve got that irresistible sex glow around you that makes it impossible for him or her not to want to climb aboard.

But just when you get into the groove, your new bass player sticks his stinky face between you and yours and reminds you that it’s that time of the night: Load out.

Every single night, load out will annihilate any chance you’ve got to put the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. If you say no to your band and skip load out, it’s only a matter of time before you’re that guy, and believe me, there’s one in every band. And after load out, generally its one more drink before you drive to wherever it is you’re staying for the night. Are you going to miss your only ride? You’re in the middle of nowhere and you have to leave early the next morning. Chances are your best bet is for an impassioned and pining look from your potential bone bud, an exchange of numbers, or a quick ‘n’ dirty HJ in the parking lot.

Continue

It’s been nearly three decades since the Big Boys commanded, “Now go start your own band!” For the most part, everyone has complied. There are more bands now than ever before, clogging nightclubs, burning millions of unwanted CDs, straining the nation’s broadband infrastructure. “Being in a band” has become the default activity for several generations of adventure-seeking youth, occupying the space previously held by “joining the military” and “having a career.”Read the rest at Vice Magazine: THE VICE GUIDE TO NOT BEING IN A BAND - Vice Magazine 

It’s been nearly three decades since the Big Boys commanded, “Now go start your own band!” For the most part, everyone has complied. There are more bands now than ever before, clogging nightclubs, burning millions of unwanted CDs, straining the nation’s broadband infrastructure. “Being in a band” has become the default activity for several generations of adventure-seeking youth, occupying the space previously held by “joining the military” and “having a career.”

Read the rest at Vice Magazine: THE VICE GUIDE TO NOT BEING IN A BAND - Vice Magazine 

There are certain types of tours where you barely make it off the floor. And if you do, the couch is a sweet, sweet blessing. In the fall of 2009, Elijah Forrest left Los Angeles with two other solo musicians in a 1989 Ford van that had been abandoned in a friend’s yard. Two hours out of town, they were overheating on the freeway in stopped traffic behind a Greyhound bus that was on fire. By the time they started moving again, the bus had burned to ashes and they had missed the first show of their tour. Their second show was scheduled to take place in a biodiesel van at an outdoor asphalt-covered park in San Francisco known as Toxic Beach. The cops busted it up before they even got a chance to play. Also, they had brought their dog along on the tour, a female Chihuahua named Joaquin, and sometime during that day a man had smashed her in the face with a cane, leaving her bleeding and traumatized. What a way to start a tour: van troubles, cops, and then someone hits your fucking dog.Read the rest at Vice Magazine: KEEPING IT BLEAK - Modern Touring in America - Vice Magazine 

There are certain types of tours where you barely make it off the floor. And if you do, the couch is a sweet, sweet blessing. In the fall of 2009, Elijah Forrest left Los Angeles with two other solo musicians in a 1989 Ford van that had been abandoned in a friend’s yard. Two hours out of town, they were overheating on the freeway in stopped traffic behind a Greyhound bus that was on fire. By the time they started moving again, the bus had burned to ashes and they had missed the first show of their tour. Their second show was scheduled to take place in a biodiesel van at an outdoor asphalt-covered park in San Francisco known as Toxic Beach. The cops busted it up before they even got a chance to play. Also, they had brought their dog along on the tour, a female Chihuahua named Joaquin, and sometime during that day a man had smashed her in the face with a cane, leaving her bleeding and traumatized. What a way to start a tour: van troubles, cops, and then someone hits your fucking dog.

Read the rest at Vice Magazine: KEEPING IT BLEAK - Modern Touring in America - Vice Magazine